


Dream A Little Bigger Darling

by Jaune_Chat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dream Sex, Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Seriously Filthy, Size Difference, Size Kink, Technically a Kind of Fucked-Up Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only way Bruce Banner can get any action is in his dreams, and the Hulk is the only one who can take care of him there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream A Little Bigger Darling

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [a prompt at avengerkink](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/13316.html?thread=30245380#t30245380): Bruce has the sex drive of a normal adult male, but he cannot have sex without Hulking out. There's a reason why he hasn't exploded of sheer blue balls. Whenever Bruce's sexual frustration reaches a certain peak, Hulk fucks him during his dreams. (It's not a wet dream, per se. His body doesn't react to the activity in his headspace. In fact, his body goes into a coma state to ensure they're not interrupted.) Bruce hates that he has no control over the event, and he loves the fact that he doesn't need to be in control for once, and he hates that he loves it so much.
> 
> Milk that size kink for all that it's worth. Hulk's tongue is so big that "fucking Bruce's mouth with his tongue" is more literal than it usually is. Hulk's dick is so big that it visibly bulges through Bruce's stomach. Abuse the fact that it's a dream, leave your realism at the door. Painless penetration with Hulk requires neither lube nor preparation! Multiple orgasms with no refractory period! _Buckets of cum!_ Cut your brake lines!

Tony had been flirting again.

No, correction, Tony had been flirting as usual. It was a law of nature. What went up had to come down in standard gravity. E equaled mc-squared. General Ross hated him. And Tony Stark flirted with people he liked.

Not overly sexually. Not to the point of discomfort, at least as far as Bruce let on. Bruce _enjoyed_ it honestly. He liked the fact that anyone was willing to throw a few jokes his way and not tip-toe around every aspect of his life that the accident had affected. Bruce even liked the fact that they both knew it was totally harmless because Tony was with Pepper, and Bruce was carrying a torch for Betty. It was just two guys, two friends, teasing each other in a well-meaning way.

It was as normal as being an Avenger was going to get.

Except even a "normal" Avenger had options to deal with any inevitable fallout. Their partner, or friend with benefits, were they lucky enough to have one. Their left hand and a bottle of lube, if said partner was out of reach. The vast, steamy reaches of Internet, certain DVDs, or a restricted selection of magazines if that was their bent. Or at least the release of a sexy daydream or two. Perhaps a wet dream, if they weren’t up for dealing with it consciously.

Bruce couldn’t be so lucky. The fear of the Hulk had been a nearly one hundred percent libido blocker for close to five years; even his subconscious wouldn’t contemplate sex for fear of an incident. But with familiarity had come a little relaxation, and with the Avengers and the subsequent feelings of safety, those long-repressed urges had surged to the fore again.

But not enough control to handle them safely. And if Bruce couldn’t get enough control to even kiss Betty, fearless, beautiful, understanding, strong Betty, he knew he couldn’t dare anything more. Not even a daydream.

Blue balls wouldn’t kill a man, no matter what myths teenage boys tried to perpetuate, but it definitely could make someone cranky and irritable if you weren’t prepared to completely ignore those desires. Enforced chastity held little appeal for Bruce; it hadn’t really been in his nature, and it had only been life-or-death fear that had kept his desires repressed for this long.

Bruce put his hands over his face to keep himself from slipping one under the bands of his boxers as he laid down for bed that night. He’d been smiling at Tony’s jokes for days and then practically crawling the walls of his room afterward, desperate for some action that he could actually handle. Which was precisely… none. He couldn’t afford to be this on-edge, not with supervillains declining to attack and give him a reason to legitimately vent some frustration.

Exhaustion started to catch up with him despite his irritation, and he heard a faint growl at the back of his mind as sleep finally pulled him under, _“Hulk take care of Banner.”_

\--

The landscape was always the same – not the desert landscapes or lush jungles and forests he’d spent so much time trying to hide, but something in a cross between the soft grass of park and the wilder flora of a meadow. Places where both of them had been safe.

Bruce whirled, angry words rising in his throat as he confronted the Hulk. Here, in their shared dreams, they could finally look in each other’s eyes. The Hulk was head, shoulders, and more above him, brawny enough to thwart any danger thrown at Bruce whether he wanted it or not. And his timing, as usual, was terrible.

Bruce snarled at him wordlessly, giving the Hulk the same kind of treatment the Hulk usually gave those he met, and felt rage rising in him, clean and clear, at his alter-ego’s laughing response.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bruce asked, the heat of rage quickly transmuting into something else. Here, as always, they were both naked, the air warm and sultry. The Hulk was muscled and thick all over, the rush of blood tinting him a darker green where his cock hung heavy, starting to swell.

Bruce could feel himself respond instantly, his own dick hard and getting harder, arousal rushing in a swiftly-cresting wave. It was everything he didn’t dare let himself feel when he was awake, and it was glorious and freeing and utterly fantastic… and entirely in his head. If he were to watch security footage of his sleeping body right now (if he could ever remember this consciously), he would see himself lying quietly, essentially comatose, with no moans or erections that usually were included with a sex dream. Because even in sleep, Bruce couldn’t let go that much.

It was only here, in Hulk-space, where he could let go. And that wasn’t a place he could travel to voluntarily. In some strange way the Hulk, the ultimate protector of Bruce Banner, had figured out that the lack of sex was hurting Bruce. And that just couldn’t be allowed. So he protected Bruce by giving him what he’d taken away.

Bruce wanted to keep being angry, because, God, it was such an incredible relief to _get_ angry without worrying that he was going to level the Tower or bring down the Helicarrier, but he couldn’t sustain rage in the face of the Hulk’s leer. The monster was as subtle as avalanche, but he _knew_ what Bruce needed to keep him safe, and whenever he chose to bring Bruce here, Bruce would take whatever the Hulk gave him and beg for more.

The Hulk reached for him, one huge hand drawing him up face to face. That green skin was furnace-hot against Bruce, and his arms were pinned to his sides, leaving him helpless. The Hulk drew him in for a kiss, awkward with how big the Hulk was, but he’d learned to adapt. Instead of trying to exchange a melding of lips, the Hulk pried Bruce’s semi-unprotesting mouth open with his tongue. With a curl, it became a springy cylinder, like a slick cock, and began to thrust between Bruce’s lips, making them swell as he tried to catch and caress the relentless, powerful muscle. His cock was almost painfully hard and slick from dribbling pre-come at this foreplay, and even if his arms had been free, Bruce wasn’t quite sure he could remember what to do with them.

Bruce’s entire face was soaked by the time the Hulk was done fucking his throat, and Bruce knew if he were capable of stringing two words together, they’d barely come out as a croak. His throat felt loose and wrecked and-- The Hulk flipped him onto his belly and nudged him up onto his hands and knees, splaying him out with a flick of those massive fingers, bigger than any human cock. And that wasn’t even the Hulk’s intention. He leaned forward and rubbed one huge digit across Bruce’s slack and moist lips, easily parting them. Bruce opened eagerly, desperate for something more to do with his mouth, and the Hulk fed his finger down Bruce’s throat. In the waking world it would have been too much, too thick, too hard. He would have choked, been unable to breathe, but here? Now? Bruce swallowed around the solid thickness, moaning.

The Hulk growled in approval and leaned down a little to draw that wet, muscular tongue across his ass, making him sopping wet and lighting up the nerves like a Christmas tree. Bruce made some pleading sound around the slowly-rocking finger in his mouth and the Hulk pushed more of the finger in, shutting him up entirely. Bruce’s mouth gaped and he knew he there was saliva leaking from the corners as the Hulk slid the hot, hard head of his cock against the small pucker of his ass.

The two neurons that were left firing in some coherent fashion were issuing nothing but a series of swear words in every language Bruce had ever heard, praising and damning him and the Hulk simultaneously as he felt the insane pressure of the monster’s cock against him. Bruce felt himself shaking uncontrollably, and his hips almost involuntarily stuttered backwards as the Hulk suddenly lunged in.

The last two neurons gave up and died in a spectacular bout of fireworks as the Hulk filled him, spread him out, cranked him wide open and beyond. It filled places that had been empty for decades, fulfilled fantasies Bruce would never let himself feel, and he orgasmed so fast he nearly missed it. That didn’t matter to the Hulk, because Bruce was sure he could feel the man’s smugness as he went from merely holding Bruce open to thrusting in even deeper. Every jerk of his hips and Bruce was gone again, lightning flashing through his veins, his cock throbbing and pulsing untouched, never oversensitive, always feeling exquisite. 

When his brain had been addled to somewhere barely more sentient than a shrub by the constant bombardment of pleasure, the Hulk paused and removed his thick finger from Bruce’s throat so he could flip him over. And started again. In between rushes of pleasure so intense Bruce kept spacing out, he kept his eyes fixed on his body. He was spread out around the Hulk’s thickness, so wide that in the waking world he would have been messily dead several times over, but here… it just felt marvelous. The Hulk was so deep within him, Bruce could _see_ the tip of his dick pressing against his stomach, outlining his path in Bruce’s body. Bruce came from that sight alone, moaning and twitching and rubbing his hands over the moving bulge, tracing patterns in the puddles of his own semen that covered his stomach.

Bruce’s self-control was gone, and he completely, utterly, totally didn’t care. He was frantic and wanton, twitching and burning and _dying_ and orgasming so hard he couldn’t even think, and fucking hell it was _glorious_. There was no need to think here, no reason to be in control. He was indulging in his basest, most primal desires and…

God, what were thoughts? Thoughts were unnecessary.

Bruce threw his head back and screamed long and loud as the Hulk came, the burning rush going on and on, filling up his body, distorting it with what felt like gallons of come flooding him. His stomach bulged with the evidence of the Hulk’s satisfaction, and Bruce just managed to twitch a few times manfully as the Hulk leaned over him, still connected. A few more thrusts made Bruce feel entirely new internal erogenous zones, and his own cock spurted yet another load across his swollen stomach as he orgasmed helplessly. 

The Hulk pressed down against Bruce’s bulging flesh until he could feel the outline of his own, still-hard cock within Bruce’s body, seemingly ignoring the moans Bruce made until he gave him another finger to suck on. That was enough of a distraction to push Bruce to another series of orgasms as he pounded him through the afterglow and into a new round of frantic need.

There was nothing he could do to stop it, and he didn’t have the willpower to say no even if he’d had the power to stop the Hulk. God help him, he loved it, and even loved the Hulk for giving this to him. 

Bruce opened his eyes during a tiny lull and for a second looked at himself, naked and covered in come, being fucked by a monster inside his own mind for the sake of every fantasy and impulse that same monster had taken from him. And for a second, he hated the Hulk for that, for not being able to respond while he was awake, for not having come for six years because the Hulk was the cockblocker from hell.

And then the Hulk lunged in again, coming and roaring and pushing on all new places that made Bruce into a shuddering wreck of satiated hormones. He picked Bruce up and bounced him like a rag doll on his cock, Bruce’s orgasm-addled body trying to writhe closer, deeper, his repressed needs demanding he take more and more and more of what the Hulk was pouring into him. And then Bruce couldn’t even remember why he’d ever wanted anything else.

\--

Bruce slowly came awake, the irritated feeling that had plagued him for weeks finally gone, leaving him feeling calm and satisfied.

 _Must have reached my saturation level,_ he thought with some amusement, stretching slowly and carefully. He hadn’t even dreamt, but perhaps his subconscious had been nice enough to take those weeks of innuendos and flirting and put them somewhere where they wouldn’t bother him for a while. He certainly wouldn’t argue with the results if it kept him from crawling the walls in frustration.

In the back of his mind, the Hulk was grumbling contentedly, and Bruce smiled. _At least one of us had a good dream,_ he thought idly, and wondered why the Hulk chuckled at him before subsiding into silence.


End file.
